Stereo Part 3: The Pain

“If you’re not satisfied with your work it means your mind is already miles ahead. There is always room for improvement.” - Issac Kitsune

Chapter 12: Issac Kitsune

Becoming a leader was what Issac Kitsune always wanted to do, yet when that time came to him, he responded in nervous flinches if only a few. The Kitsune’s younger brother returned to him in a remarkable jet, which he mastered to control in only a few days. While the Ares Lord cared for only a few individuals, his kin was one of them. He and his team were preparing to do one job and one job only. Between the large stockpile of Moltagen and battalions of stolen Gyrocrafters, there would be no excuse for failure this time. Issac patiently waited for the last stolen ship to arrive with the final supply of Moltagen in his large throne. A young woman donning a purple Kitsune mask bowed to the Ares Lord and informed him of an event. Her petite figure stayed motionless as she spoke “Alyte forces are taking siege of Stereo, I’m afraid.” Issac only smirked at this revelation, he had no reason to fear, who could the Alytes send to dismantle an operation as big as this?

Issac didn’t know, or at least he tricked himself into believing he didn’t. The dark-purple-haired woman got close to Issac, offering her blade with her hand on his chest. He took the short dagger while the woman left to transport the Moltagen. Issac looked East, where the woman was heading, and asked her to stop her current task. The woman tied her dark hair into a bun and looked back to face the Ares Lord. “Yes?” She innocently asked. Issac sat upright in his over-fashioned chair, ensuring his large smile was apparent. “Nothing” the man lied, “Just making sure you weren’t a spy, newbie.” The woman walked away, turning her back to the door, walking ever so slightly faster when she felt a cold dagger in the back of her neck.

“The next time the Barbarians plant a spy in here, tell them ‘Issac Kitsune is always watching.’” The words shook the Eackle to the core, oh and also the dagger comprised of dark matter and energy was quite painful as well. The weapon quite literally made them shiver to their core. The dark matter disguise of a woman was falling apart. Execute and Cackle was escaping the conjoined body, the latter exiting first and starting his ritual. The bird-like man was attempting to become a Crownomancer. He clashed both of his fists together and pierced the Ares Lord with a murderous stare before unleashing his true potential. Two wings emerged from the back of his shoulders, both were natural and beautiful and belonged to a dark raven, specifically, one that was found in Bartos Plane. Execute distracted Issac with his winged figure, this time, his assets were metallic and man-made. The Kitsune arose from his throne and tried to escape but the Barbarian grabbed his neck with his right hand and glided all over the throne room attempting to ram him into a heavy object. Issac purposely put his hand in his attacker’s mouth, knowing exactly what would happen. The bloodthirsty mechanic bit down hard, attempting to damage his opponent. Big mistake. The infamous green substance everyone knew about expelled from the Ares Lord’s hand, splashing Execute with the most potent and dangerous source of Moltagen he knew of. Instinctively, he dropped Issac, rolled down the stairs while losing control, and rammed directly into the original Issac Kitsune’s statue (The current one’s older brother). The Barbarian not only crashed into a metallic rock statue, but he also hit the tip of the long blade the figure was wielding. No one was happy about this. The Barbarian’s face continued to fall off, part by part while his partner flew at Issac, hitting his ankles as hard as he could. The Ares Lord continued to defend himself from the spy. He preferred a more elegant and ordered duel, but the Crownomancer thought otherwise. He summoned a dozen ravens, allowing Issac to arm himself with his infamous Naginata. Cackle pointed his sharp finger on his right hand, signaling his allies to engage in combat, against Issac. The Kitsune made quick work of the pets, spinning his weapon in a circular swing, he slaughtered half of the ravens. Cackle’s friends diverted, avoiding Issac to the side, and spun around, making their way back to him.

“Very nice, however, I do not advise angering me or my buddies over here, they can be quite deadly,” said the Crownomancer. “They are dead alright” replied the Kitsune. This statement slightly irritated the crow controller, who shot a piercing glance at his opponent before summoning a portal from below formed by his army of ravens surrounding him. A section of the Ares Lord’s floor turned dark red and transparent before the Crownomancer successfully summoned the portal. With one more trick up his sleeve, Kitsune threw his Naginata at Cackle, yet it was too late. The only thing the weapon could penetrate was a single hair on the Barbarian’s head. It was not much, but it was something. He ordered his younger brother to grab the dark strand of hair while he looked for Execute, which he had ironically executed. His jaw had utterly fallen apart, leaving only the upper half of his head attached to his body. The Barbarian would have many parts and Issac would have a fun time dissecting him. The man was part-machine, after all. He walked down his delicate flight of stairs, approaching the corpse, if robots were to be considered to have life in the first place. The body’s blue eyes turned transparent, meaning the Barbarians couldn’t even track the location of their comrade, more importantly, The Ares Base. The pathetic tin can was not worth his time, he ordered his brother to remove the man from the throne room, and he happily obliged as the Ares Lord brought out a soft paintbrush. He touched his kin’s chest with his left hand and dipped it in Execute’s leaking gas tank. It was Moltagen in its most useful state. The brush caressed the bitter liquid and Issac painted the painful substance on his brother’s outfit. Isosceles Kitsune felt nothing at the pain, once the process was complete, only the Count remained, and it was ticking.

“I fear not the clock whose countdown reveals a negative, but the invisible one which promises a false positive.” - Isosceles Kitsune

Chapter 13: The Meaning of Barbarian

“Get the hell off of my friend, he didn’t fucking mean it.” Young master Gatrous was repeatedly punching Manager Felch in the ground. No one was happy with this situation. “Are you going to kill me, young master?” The muscular man expelled no blood from his body before slamming Gatrous into a wall and stomping on his throat. Cackle could do nothing but watch with his hands tied in Moltagen-fused chains. Barbarians didn’t go down that easily though. Standing up, Gatrous saluted, yet the Flame Manager rammed him into a gas barrel, pushing it over. The young heir considered his options and didn’t immediately fight back. He drew his Armadillo. The white weapon had its trigger on a curved surface. Felch drew his own, but his firearm was completely black and red. Gatrous steadily pointed his weapon downwards, where the sticky oil made contact with his elegant tennis shoes. To add to the increasingly dangerous situation, the Barbarian heir swiped the top of the metallic object, and it turned inside out. He loved reverse psychology. If he let go of the trigger, all three of them would be scorched. Cackle smiled the grimmest grin he could muster, before seeing a familiar face. “You’re a damn embarrassment to your country and species, my friend.” Felch contemplated kicking Gatrous again but didn’t for obvious reasons. There was no way he would manage the risk of that happening. After a long moment of nervous silence, Gatrous started by spewing a valley of irrelevant information and insults. Felch started inspecting the youth, who smiled shortly after as the raven attacked his enemy. The raven’s two feet clawed upon the Flame Manager while Cackle broke free of his chains, courtesy to another two ravens. Felch rammed the two birds into the wall, pushing a chair over. Cackle and Gatrous returned the favor as they did a synchronized dive into the Flame Manager. In a rage, the muscular man grabbed the heir’s firearm and attempted to shoot him. He was so angry, he forgot the blaster was in Reverse mode. He released the trigger, shooting himself in the stomach. A flaming bullet scorched his left side. Felch smiled grimly at the accident. They didn’t call him the Barbarian Flame Manager for nothing. He brought his bloodied left hand to his side, burning his hand, and producing a fireball from his palms. He flung the hot substance toward Cackle when Gatrous raised his long blade to absorb the attack. It turned into a slick, orange color. His blade was slightly curved at the end, just like his Armadillo. He shot Felch probably the fortieth angry glance at this moment. The Flame Manager didn’t care and quickly shot four more fireballs in the heir’s direction. Ducking and dodging was all Gatrous needed to do to avoid certain death. Of course, a Barbarian heir would be powerful, but it was hard to believe Felch was the Lead Barbarian Flame Manager with the skills he was displaying. He was indeed a tactician at heart and a soldier second. Gatrous later absorbed the damage to stand his ground and move closer to Felch while Cackle sent his allies to the Flame Manager, hoping to distract him. In true Barbarian fashion, Gatrous immediately took his chance once Felch was disturbed by Cackle’s little friend. He dove toward the Flame Manager and unleashed a relentless flurry of basic attacks. He punched and clawed the traitor with nothing but his rage and fists. The blood on his hands may cause an infection, but Gatrous didn’t care anymore. What remained was the corpse of former Barbarian Flame Manager Stifle Felch, who sent Cackle and Execute on a suicide mission, and attempted to execute Cackle when the plan didn’t work out. “Great, we made Ares and bounty hunters around the world hate us more,” said the winged Barbarian. “We’ll just have to keep our lead on Stereo, we already settled on a large base on the planet. For now, we’re winning the space race, but the Kitsune-masked hunters may want to change that,” replied the mature youth. Cackle was always the shy one in Reorder, but he was becoming increasingly annoyed, his best friend was being held captive, his manager had tried to kill him, and he had to worry about illegal bounty hunters as well. Well, at least Felch was a Barbarian and not a robotic organism. That meant his insides were made of rich flesh. Despite Cackle and Gatrous’s worries, they could enjoy this single moment. They knew what they were going to eat for dinner. Time to eat up!

“Don’t fear the day you’ll say ‘The thing I regret most.’ Fear the day you understand why you were born and what must be done.” - Adam Aero

Chapter 14: Launch

“It was the day I was born, it was the day we were born and the day you would start learning what it meant to be a hero.” I focused as I read the first line of “Monsieur, Monsieur.” Highly regarded as one of the most influential science fiction novels of all time, Lero Mick’s series was full of questions and realities which were sure to make you ponder for hours upon hours on end. What happened to Kronith’s clan? Who was the Imperial Saboteur? Did Mytholes truly create the first Vleurkian Kingdom? Even with a large spectrum of stories spanning forty-eight books, many questions were left to be speculated. Reading the series felt more like solving a puzzle than dissecting sci-fi elements. Somehow, the writing style of Mick was almost more entertaining than exploring science non-fiction in person. Our Gyrocrafter was waiting in a linear chute, waiting to be dispatched. I turned my nervousness into excitement. It took around twelve minutes for each ‘crafter to be launched, so we had plenty of time to make some last-minute changes. I was just passing the time by reading Monsieur, Monsieur for the fourth time this year. Henry was sitting next to me, reading a fantasy novel with his left hand while his right was sharpening his spear with a whetstone pen. It was probably the most tedious and desperate thing I’ve seen him do. Hazane was sitting across us, where she concealed a small dagger to bring out a Rubix cube from her back pocket. It was the most serious I had ever seen her. What I meant by that was she had a half-smile on her face instead of an obvious grin. Another ‘crafter was dispatched as ours moved forward while we were seated in wool couches. The same message was spoken a dozen times over.

“Current Gyrocrafter status: Dispatched, please let pass the next available ‘crafter.” Making our way to Stereo would be quite a costly trip. Around four hundred thousand Jade Ingots were used to supply this mission, around one hundred Moltagen coins, the newest currency in the Solar Tree, or should I call this universe of multiple planets and space rocks, Stereo. I was not nervous about the trip at all, at this point, everything that happened would be dependent on each person, not the circumstances or environment. After a couple of short minutes, it was our turn. “Gyrocrafter 42 status: Dispatched, please let pass the next available ‘crafter.” The tube-shaped spacecraft stopped abruptly while we equipped our seatbelts and harnesses. I looked to the right, where the Alyte vehicle’s twin thrusters made a rumbling sound and expelled a moderate burst of blue fire which slowly moved us forward, away from the launchpad. When the front of the Gyrocrafter was just over the edge of where the long line ended, a sudden extreme burst of magnificent, blue fire caused everyone on board to be pulled tight into their seatbelts. The force was too powerful to resist. The Gyrocrafter’s thrusters were moving the vehicle at an incredible speed. The fun experience only lasted for over a minute, however, we couldn’t have too much fun during a mission. The invisible force disappeared, releasing the grip on our couches and restrictions. Everything was smooth and unexciting. The Gyrocrafter would be expected to arrive at Stereo in around two hours. Let’s hope nothing wrong happens on the way there, as it would look terrible for us and the rest of the Alytes.

Edit to add: Something bad did happen. Before I tell you what happened, let me just read to you my favorite line in “Monsieur, Monsieur,” which was “See the European guy, no, the other one.” Why was that necessary? Well, it fits considering our situation after twenty-five seconds when the mission started. A loud thump rocked the front of the Gyrcorafter, and a large crack in the glass accompanied it. I, Henry, and Hazane instantly donned our Alyte masks, the latter of my friends sporting a pink color. Henry was the first to notice the main cause of the attack, two Kitsune Lords, equipped with twin short swords. They pierced the Gyrocrafter’s glass panel with their swords at the same time this was a coordinated attack. Henry licked his lips as he raised his sword and pounced on his next meal. Unfortunately for him, the Kitsunes were quite skinny and relied on their weapons more than anything else. Nothing could be safe when Henry threw things, but the circumstances were already dangerous, so we didn’t need to worry about that. So that was what he did, regardless if we liked it or not. Of course, the goofy method caused a goofy result when the strong Alyte tried to throw his seriously impressive javelin at the goofily skinny enemies. I imagined the last sentence was the average thought process of my best friend. Hazane, who I hadn’t previously noticed had her rollerblades equipped, unzipped her harness and made the most ridiculous move an Alyte Finger Dancer could do. A dropkick. After that, she positioned herself in a traditional stance, with her hands positioned into palms, with one leg much higher than the other. She acted as a shield, while I and Henry shot short daggers and javelins at the attackers. Knowing they were at a disadvantage, the small soldiers rushed in, yet Hazane managed to prevent them from running past the very front of the ‘crafter. Taking two armed Kitsunes at once, she disarmed both of them with both of her hands. Henry saw how one of them tried to get up after being knocked down and threw a piercing javelin that went down the center of the man’s skull. He flew outside the door to the side of the Gyrocrafter, blowing him away into the unknown. His companion swallowed his pride instead of a javelin and rushed down to fly with his friend, in an attempt to save him, leaving us untouched. For now, there was no danger for us to worry about. I dashed to the controls located in the front and switched on a black lever. “This is Adam Aero speaking, the threat has been eliminated,” I said almost too excitedly. It would take only a few seconds for the rest of the ‘crafters to receive my call, so I remained at the front, operating the control room. Auto-pilot was turned off, as I wanted to practice my skills a little more before we arrived at Stereo.

The rest of the trip there was relatively peaceful. The control stick of the ‘crafter was shaped like a thick disc outlined with but a yellow streak. The simple design made it easier to focus on operating the vehicle, which was fine by me. I could hear Hazane rollerskating at the back of the carrier, and Henry once again, sharpening his simple sword. His white hair was messy, and his muscles were covered with heavy armor. He was often distracted by the different colored rocks we were flying by. I calculated we were seventy minutes into the journey, including the sudden attack. We declined the offer of multiple guards ‘crafters watching over us, we were graduates after all, if not new and inexperienced grads. We could (mostly) take care of ourselves. Just look at how we handled that last situation. Henry may have missed a dozen or more weapons and cracked the ‘crafter’s glass panel a little, but at least we got those intruders off our trail. The main focus was to make sure the Barbarians don’t immediately swarm us the second we land on the unfamiliar planet. There were too many ‘crafters for this arrival to be a complete surprise, but we’ll make do with just numbers and skill. Besides, what’s a base compared to an entire legion? I’m sure we could all survive this encounter if we all tried.

A secluded place hidden by a few mountains was our current destination. The area was in between two villages, none of which were populated. We were one hundred twelve minutes into our flight where I volunteered to be the first Alyte on Stereo. A total of forty-eight ships, including Gyrocrafters and suppliers had landed exactly on time, at two hours. We were known for producing extremely quick vehicles, after all, it was only natural sixteen large vehicles could be parked per minute. The beauty of Alyte technology was now on display for everyone to see. Barbarians, Terrons, and even Aliens could be admiring us at this very moment. Though I hope no one did, that would ruin the surprise. I exited the Gyrocrafter first and Henry and Hazane followed me outside. The blue world had a sky deep of clouds and mountains as large as volcanoes. The only light that was admitted was coming North, where the Barbarians had likely taken camp. Our main mission was to infiltrate and slaughter the Barbarians, but first, let’s just set up our bases and play it cool, it’s been a while since I’ve done that.

“The shame I felt when I saw him leave his cage was the day I vowed never again to continue my bloodshed” - Issac Kitsune

Chapter 15: Lethal

“He was the happiness of our world, Isosceles, and Kitsune.” The masked warrior continued to sing songs originating from ancient folktales as his superiors prepared for the second invasion of the planet known as Stereo. Unlike the foolish Alytes, their surprise would be more like a scientific hypothesis than an invasion. The Kitsunes were exhausted from hiding, yet this would be the final straw to liberate the Bounty Hunter Clan for good, and the Ares Lord would make sure of it, no doubt. He wanted everyone to know they were the ones to be remembered for history. How the Barbarians were also foolish to leave a body, no, a mechanical corpse in his home. The fallen machine had a multitude of varying pieces which could identify every part about him, and the rest of the Barbarians. They had been hiding in secret, just like the Kitsunes, yet this single mistake had stripped them of everything they had hidden. Young minds were the easiest to exploit, thought the Ares Lord. The campfire illuminated the dark forest, below the throne room, where twelve middle-aged generals were chatting away, letting go of their current worries. Issac need not remind them of the mission ahead, he was occupied with drinking a bitter yet nutritional cup of Moltagen Tea. There was no need for him to worry as well.

A ‘copter entered the perimeter, no doubt it was Iscoceles returning from a research expedition. He was also so protective of his little brother, he always said it would be the death of him. By definition, The Kitsunes were Terrons, yet most of their vehicles, including ‘copters, were stolen. Oh well, I guess I just accidentally stole four hundred twenty-seven expensive machines, not a big deal. When you owned over twenty thousand Milock and Orbital devices, four hundred twenty-seven truly wasn’t a big deal. Songs continued to be sung around the everlasting campfire, as Issac watched vividly, forgetting all about his past life when his name was Isolated. Suddenly a wave of self-doubt and shame washed over his unmasked state. He had tried so hard and it was for nothing, he could never forget. He kept strong, however. Every Kitsune had suffered, everyone a part of Ares knew the definition of misery to its core meaning. This is why Issac had to be the one to destroy the endless cycle of the hunters getting hunted. He could not fail, not after everything he had been through, there would never be a Kitsune like him ever again! The masked man regained his composure, making sure to focus on relevant matters. Isosceles had just returned from his mission, his first task was to check on his younger brother, from there, they would inform everyone of the plan that was to be unfolded. While young, Isoceses with a wise youth. But that was to be expected of someone of the original Kitsune bloodline. Issac could still be casual about it, he was still a living organism who yearned for entertainment. And the Borbose was the perfect tool to cure boredom. The heavy yet alluring strings of the instrument were struck by the slender man’s even thinner fingers. He composed each finger on his left hand to create a peaceful tune, an original song crafted in his free time, named “Tailing.” He was always a believer that music could cure insanity, yet the other generals still mocked him to this day. He spared no thought to them, however. Even if was for just a single moment, a tiny and short moment, he could enjoy this moment. It could be very well the last time he heard a string of the instrument, but he didn’t fear meeting his elder brother. The coming battle was near, so he played his last line as he sat upright, staring at the friends he made along the way.

“General, there may be something you might want to inspect.” The Cadet continued to remain composed as he delivered a small yet bulky letter to his captain. The gorilla-faced man opened the letter without asking any questions, giving a thumbs up to his apprentice. Signals always felt more powerful to him. You make someone roll their eyes by flipping them off, you make someone roll into a mirror of shame when you give them a thumbs down. The black cursive letter was difficult for the man’s dyslexia, but the content encouraged him to read further. It was disturbing, but beautiful to the eyes of a Kitsune. The Alytes were being raided by Terron forces, there would be severe casualties. What’s better is the fact Barbarian forces will be forced to fight or leave Stereo, in fear of the Terrons. And a realization forged in the general’s mind, they’ll probably massacre us too. While the Ares Lord had relations with multiple Terron leaders, he wasn’t sure which Terron group was attacking the Alytes and Barbarians. Could they be the Arkians? The Shadesweepers? Or worst of all, the TerroWrists? The single most deadly fighters in the entire Solar System? The only ones who could launch an attack with Sykokins were the TerroWrists. The general gave the cadet a thumbs up before hurrying to give Issac the letter and plan their next line of assault. From there, the Terrons would be so focused on attacking two Great Legions they would never expect Ares to wipe them out with a single raid, slaughtering all of those who remained, taking the planet, no, the entire collection of space, everything from a small rock to an entire planet, the entire place, known as Stereo.

The thin man welcomed the request for the bulky general who wished to speak with him. The elevator doors opened, revealing the room vandalized by the Ares Lord’s inner child to the dyslexic man. Arcade cabinets and pool tables were the first to catch visitors’ eyes as they walked out of the gray elevator, into the white-blanketed room. The general bowed at the sight of the Ares Lord. Issac gestured for him to commence forth and offered him a modest cup of tea. The muscular general accepted the kind act and began reciting the letter’s contents. In all of this, Issac couldn’t stop himself from challenging the general in a game of Vescape. The program built into the large cabinet was every Kitsune’s favorite thing to play during breaks. The premise was simple, horde everything you could. The nostalgic pixels covered the black screen bit by bit as Issac pressed a small red button with white arial text which read “POWER” in all capital letters. The general wasn’t very surprised the first thing his master did after hearing about a disturbing event was to boot up a classic arcade game. He, however, wasn’t going to give up that easily though. He accepted the challenge and started playing with Issac. The bright gleam illuminated the beautiful screen. The two men could enjoy this simple game and forget about their worries, at least for now.

Player 1, Issac Kitsune spawned first. He quickly grabbed a pixelated Moltagen crate as the dyslexic general was still counting his player sprite’s pixels. He allowed the Ares Lord’s player object to be created first, he liked a challenge. Issac was now carrying two Moltagen crates on his character’s back while shooting a pixelated bandit with dots that were supposed to represent bullets. The game was quite challenging if both men were to be honest. It would undoubtedly be more difficult if only one of them played the campaign mode, which was a full hour of hard but satisfying levels. Kitsunes rarely played games like pool, due to their lack of innovation. Technology was the boon of Ares history. What they truly enjoyed was programs such as Vescape, Issac explained to the new general. The transfer soldier still carried his first set of three Gold crates to the Kitsune Jet, before Issac could even annihilate his first bandit. He quickly got into the jet and flew away and traversed to the next loading screen- I mean the next planet. The thought of losing indeed sunk the Ares Lord into the game, he started rapidly flicking his joy stick and started cutting more corners until he finally reached his Barbarian fleet, which was slower but could carry much more crates. The general started on the next planet named Zabotes and made an error which caused Issac to lead the game now. A black-masked bandit shot a long white bullet at the Kitsune and he watched as his character was reduced to nothing but some white, flashing pixels. Yet the lead didn’t last long though, Issac got overconfident and made the same lethal mistake, causing him to lose his last life and end the game. “Ugh,” he sighed.

“I once asked a young and upcoming prodigy if he would like a magical button for helping stop an armed robbery. He questioned me, asking what was so magical about the small red button. I quickly explained how with a single press, you could kill any one person of your choosing. He quickly grabbed it, vowing to only execute the most notorious people on the thriving planet. A few months later, I forgot to water my plants and they died out when I returned from hunting. I greeted the young man who decided to live with me. After all, we were the only two remaining people on the planet. ” - Astroid

Chapter 16: Entourage

I hid behind Henry as he turned the corner, revealing only his head to see the two Sykokins sitting near a campfire. The diversion had worked, the Terrons had truly believed they had annihilated a large chunk of our forces. Henry had a hard time comprehending what the difference was, he thought a large pile of disguised food was just as important as our lives. I couldn’t blame him, Moosemon Soup was tasty as hell. The meals we prepared were not just delicious, they were foolproof. I looked out of the corner of the Terron jet as well, seeing the Sykokins had turned into regular Terrons, almost like magic. Enough of that, however, we were hungry for more blood. I noticed a large dart coming from Henry’s back pocket from his armor. It was difficult to see it since it was nighttime, but I managed to identify the object as a Skin Arrow. Well, it didn’t matter if we were using forbidden weapons. They were using uncalled tactics like raids. I retrieved a wooden stick and tied a thin string to another twig. It would act like a small bow, the real prize they would receive was the Skin Arrow. As the two Terrons started retreating into their Terron Jet, they started walking in a single-file line. Perfect. I dragged the dangerous arrow backward, its green tip sticking out at night. The long black object- hold up. The black arrow flew toward the two Terrons, piercing them both. Henry rushed towards them, I followed him like I always did. I looked at the one behind the other, the effects were already starting to show. I could never get used to the disturbing consequences of forbidden weapons. The Terron started grasping his chest in immense pain as his cheeks were becoming flat. His armor suddenly became too small for him, I could almost swear I could see his bones behind his flesh and skin. He closed his tired eyes, only his skeleton remained. The consequences of his army’s actions were demonstrated at this very moment, but I couldn’t say I was happy about it.

Of course, Henry reported to me the other one suffered the same repercussions. They were both penetrated with the same projectile, after all. It was a shame it had to come down to this, but in my defense, they attacked first, any offense is self-defensive when you were attacked first. I looked upward, a familiar pink-haired lady was pushing a Sykokin out from her blade. The body nearly fell on me, but I managed to dodge fast enough. It was surprising to see Hazane wield a large, long sword though. She usually liked using her fingers more to kill an enemy. And for good reason as well. It looked extraordinarily cool and badass when you saw someone else do it. She threw the stained blade underhanded style and I somehow managed to catch it, barely. She jumped down and rolled toward me, almost too close to me. She was especially eccentric at this moment, at that moment, I realized, maybe we aren’t morally superior to the other Legions at all. But no time to question your morality in a war of all things. This was just something common all soldiers thought of at one point, right? I was sure of it, why would anyone doubt themselves? I quickly looted everything the Terron Former was equipped with, which included a lighter, two SnackPacs, and a Mantra Revolver. The wide projectile weapon fit nicely on my forearm, it was nice to have a new weapon, especially if it was from a slain enemy. The black, slick object lit up at its front with a red light that illuminated the dark n I could almost swear it was designed just for me (and other Alytes, of course). Before anyone could notice us, Henry and I rushed to climb a cliffside, while Hazane merely jumped from mountain to mountain. If I had to be honest, the cliff was quite steep and difficult for me to traverse, personally. It did seem like Henry and Hazane were more equipped to deal with this type of situation than me.

I managed to get up the cliff eventually, however. I didn’t care if Henry said he thought the moon would explode first before I got up, the method was good enough. What I saw on the large mountain did disturb me, however. There were dozens of them. All of them were equipped with an arsenal of weapons. All of them each donning Imperial Armor. Terrons. More importantly, the true Terrons. The TerroWrists. Not only that, there were also dozens of ‘copters and jets, used for multiple different purposes. They were truly serious about this entire operation, weren’t they? I mean, when you become the enemy of the entire Solar System, it makes sense. We had to restrain Henry from rushing the entire Terron base and getting himself killed, but just barely. Henry was always unpredictable in tough situations. Something unexpected happened as we waited and devised a battle plan for the rest of our troops. My ears exploded with blinding sound and my eyes bled from deafening light in one, short moment. A white substance exploded into a circular shockwave, knocking me out, yet I didn’t realize it then. “What the hell happened.” I blurted. Another attack was launched this time from my teammates. Henry and Hazane pulled me into a tight embrace, I had realized in the span of a short few moments, I was knocked unconscious for two days, even if it didn’t feel like it. Henry shoved a sweet croissant down my throat and I indulged it, remembering to say no homo afterwards. I stood up straight, seeing the result of the forbidden weapons the Barbarians used. At first, I didn’t see how truly destructive the damage was until a small, red rat started digging out of the ground and rushed to a familiar structure. The set of white, long, and firm objects were indeed undeniable, the bones of the Terrons we watched on top of the mountain.

The horrifying realization had dawned on me. We had survived the explosion by Hazane’s equipment, the Shieldbeam. Not even just Hazane’s shield, the Alyte peace treaty had arrived on time. The Crownomancer, Cackle, must’ve stopped the Barbarian/Alyte conflict since Barbarian forces were growing weak from their battle with the Terrons, meaning the peace treaty prevented the Barbarians from harming us with the explosion, unintentionally. Aaron‘s Law was quite helpful, wasn’t it? Just now (for me at least), it saved thousands of Alyte lives. Which I was pretty pleased about, I wasn’t planning on dying on this empty rock planet. There wasn’t much to do here, except witness forbidden weapons, which, if I had to be honest, was very, really cool. But like all awesome things in life, it was also dangerous. While the Barbarians were preparing another weapon, we couldn’t just wait here. I quickly ate two bowls of Mormoose Soup below the mountain. I consumed the meals faster than I’d ever eaten in my entire life. Not that Mormoose Soup was delicious of course, it was the fact I hadn’t eaten anything for the past twelve days. While gulping down the two bowls, I managed to speak after digesting the food. I hadn’t realized after I inhaled the soup that the base of operations had improved quite significantly.

There were more ‘crafters and large tents still being set up. That was only natural since they had twelve days to make the best home before I woke up. Home. Was that what I called this planet? Ridiculous, Merris was the only place I belonged to. That was what Machama said to Asterix before becoming the God of the known universe. It was just a coincidence, I convinced myself. I had always managed to convince myself what I wanted to believe, so what was the point? To get my mind off the philosophical questions that I wasn’t experienced in, I headed to the training room, to spar with Henry, at least he shared a common interest in me—killing Barbarians in the most creative and painful ways possible. Sure it wasn’t a very solution to this whole situation, but how else were we supposed to have fun?

I picked up two short Scorpion Swords before Henry threw a Javelin to my right side, implying I should watch my back from now on, even though he always rushed in irrationally without strategy all the time. Ironic, wasn’t it? Well, it has been twelve days, and there was a high chance he could’ve improved by the time I was knocked out. I turned around to see him, in full armor charge me with a short but longer-than-mine Scorpion Sword. I quickly countered his with mine. The trick was to force an unusual position between your weapon and your opponent’s hand, disarming them. I hit his sword with a horizontal slash, knocking back his Scorpion Sword, but he still managed to keep it in his hand. He was very skilled at wielding several different weapons. He countered with two vertical slashes, for each of my swords, disabling me of one of them. Quite interesting, I’ve never seen him attempt that classic maneuver before, I must’ve learned it during my moment of weakness. I pushed my weapon high in the air, but he still managed to counter the move even in his bulky armor, before kicking me in the ankle, still, I managed to keep my Scorpion Sword. I was naturally good with my right hand. This training session was much more intense than usual, and they were pretty close to start with, I may lose this one. As Henry attempted a larger, direct downward strike, I skipped to the side to obtain the Scorpion Sword Henry disarmed.

I slid to the ground, picking up the weapon. Just barely though, I had to block another downward slash with now both of my Scorpion Swords. I love being an Alyte. He accidentally titled his weapon to the side and lost his grip, presumably from the sweat on his palms. I used this opportunity to close in the distance before I slowed down suddenly for an unexpected reason. I had never seen my best friend do this before, but Henry turned around and did a full Horse Kick, delivering a swift metal foot to my chin, and knocking me to the ground. I didn’t even attempt to get back up, not necessarily out of pain, but the shock paralyzed me from the brain down. I couldn’t process what happened until four seconds after I got knocked to the ground. Weird ass things kept happening lately, it seems. Well, the Alytes were considered to be the quirkiest group in Stereo. Wait, did I say Stereo instead of Solar Tree or Solar System? I realized this planet must’ve had some kind of convincing effect, I had never referred to the galaxy as Stereo before. I was going to ponder more about the weird occurrence, but a felt a metallic arm lifting me, it was Henry.

I explained to him what the hell happened, and he told me not to worry about it, he said killing Barbarians was more fun to him than anything philosophical. I agreed, but not to that extent. Henry was always the most bloodthirsty of the Alytes. Of course, after sparring with the armored knight, I was back to square one. The state of painful hunger. I consumed another bowl of Mormoose Soup before dozing off.

“He who was wronged picked up his brother’s body and shed tears, leaving the fallen village, where he left one-hundred twenty-four corpses without a place to call home. ” - Astroid

Chapter 17: Emotion

Several grenades rocked the world as the disguised tanks entered the abandoned base. It was said Terron scum had looted this place already. To be honest, that didn’t matter to Crownomancer Cackle. He tried to suppress his anger, and in some ways, he did. Cackle only bashed one Alyte’s head in with a heavy bolder instead of twelve. Though he did drink some of the dead man’s blood before continuing through the deserted plain with his army of war machines. Cackle was still on guard, following his encounter with Felch, today was making him feel an emotion that didn’t exist. He angled his Armadillo at a suspicious window and released the trigger. A TerroWrist fell out of the building and fell limply on the blue dirt. He dissolved into a black liquid, Cackle looked away. He hated Terrons with a passion, even when every other Barbarian hated the Alytes more. Damn the Terrons and their reliance on materials and technology rather than the brute strength of the Barbarians or even the weapon diversity and fighting skills of the Alytes. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be more enemies located in the abandoned Barbarian bases, if there were, oh well, Cackle would just have to settle for lower-quality meat to feed his battalion.

He looked at the dark sky, which reminded him of Gatrous’s gloomy behavior, the young master was surely working on a new prototype of another weapon he was inspired by. Smart lad, that one. He reminded Cackle of Execute, which he would gladly do to any Terron (and Alyte) who approached him. His sinister smile went flat as he realized he ran out of the Terron’s blood, which was infinitely more nutritious than the Alyte’s. Cackle was sure for only a moment there was no one else located in this sector, all of them seemed to be dead or evacuated. So that was at least one win for the Barbarians, just after the forbidden weapon dropped near the Alyte camp Cackle and Gatrous personally built, which they named “Hide.” The mission was a success, if he said so himself. Unfortunately, the Peace Treaty was forged by the Five Original Champions, meaning the attack couldn’t eliminate even a single Alyte. Oh well, you win some, you lose some. Oh well. Why did the Crownomancer enjoy the phrase so much? Maybe it was irony, he used it when he was a wee lad, shaped by traumatic events which made him a Massacre Artist. Those who could slaughter hordes of enemies without staining their weapons or armor, always looked amazing when taking out their enemies. Yet the Crownomancer role was much more appealing to him, a messenger who could also fight back his enemies, what else could he want? That’s also excluding the fact he could revive his allies and summon a legion of winged friends as well.

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There were also significant cons of this class, however. For starters, there was a likely chance someone wasn’t going to take you seriously if you were a Crownomancer, since, well, you’re a messenger whose ability is to summon bloody birds. Of course, higher beings would think of you as less of a unit and more of a machine whose only job is to transmit messages. Especially Barbarians, and Cackle couldn’t blame him, he knew he was not as badass as an Alyte Finger Dancer, or even as useful as a Terron Scientist, but one thing he was certain of was the fact he belonged to the Barbarians. His pure hatred and pure brutal strength of his only served as evidence. There was no reason to believe the Crownomancer could be a part of any other Legion. He threw another smoke grenade into a glass building, hoping to catch any other Terron who decided to hide in these buildings, which the Barbarians had built. How rude could some people be? After repeating the same process of attack for several more minutes, Cackle heard the linear line of tanks stop behind him, all of them. By instinct, he also stood still, ensuring there was no other danger in this sector. There was another danger in the location, it was where everyone here would lose their life or worse.

Issac Kitsune could smell the blood of his comrades fallen in battle. They weren’t a part of his Bounty Hunter Clan, of course, but the TerroWrists were Terrons, just like him and the Kitsunes. All the more reason to kill the Barbarians. Well, even if the Terrons had attacked first. Honor worked that way. No matter who was justified, the creator of that word must’ve thought he was morally “correct,” thought Issac. His younger brother would be here soon, Isosceles was always considered to be a gifted prodigy. He would know what to do if he was here. Instead, the Ares Lord regrettably assigned him to search for Barbarian watchtowers and take them out. Issac’s objective was much more entertaining, which meant he didn’t lose focus on the mission. That was the important part, especially when the Ares Lord spied with his little eyes on a disguised tank. Issac must’ve thought it was a fish tank however, he could see right through the machine’s deceptive mask, instantly identifying it as a Barbarian FLTank. He liked challenges, if he could take an entire line of tanks by himself, he would take an entire line of tanks by himself. That was why the Kitsunes trusted Issac Kitsune, he was stupidly brave, and vigilant. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. The Ares Lord rushed to the battlefield, at the end of the line.

Issac and Cackle immediately spotted each other simultaneously. The Kitsune directly rushed in, catching the eyes of every Barbarian in the abandoned base. Their tanks had been set to automatic aiming, which meant that the tanks were about to waste all of their ammunition on a speedy fox. They rushed to turn off the automatic firing, hoping not to rid of their greatest weapons. Too late. Issac jumped up several seconds before the tanks fired, leaving a massive crater in the middle of the base of operations. The Kitsune landed on one of the tanks, before slashing the ceiling of the metal war machine in half with his sharp Naginata, now forged with Moltagen. He likely slashed a Barbarian’s head in half as well. With all of this commotion, more people would arrive on the battlefield, if it wasn’t already going to be a massacre. Bloody hell, I’m a narrator and even I had to say that. Too much goofy shit was happening lately. Anyways, the Kitsune still caused more chaos, letting his inner stupid- I mean youth run wild. Of course, foolishness bred more foolishness. Now, not only were Terrons arriving on the scene, Alytes too wanted to join the bloodshed. Now, in Cackle and Issac’s eyes, a bluish-black-haired man was running towards them with two scorpion swords, followed by an Alyte Finger Dancer and an armored Alyte with a shit ton of javelins. Scratch that, a familiar Kitsune also arrived on the scene and segregated the black-haired man from the rest of the Alytes. The Barbarians and Terrons had thought that was the end of it, what could one Alyte do against hundreds of enemies? Yet, they were gravely mistaken. The separated Alyte jumped on the same tank the Ares Lord was on, with both Scorpion Swords in his hands.

I had no idea what I was going to do, this was by far the most ridiculous thing I’ve attempted, but since my intrusive thoughts already won, there was only one thing to do now. Sit back and see how my body would react to the pure adrenaline and excitement this situation contained. I had to follow my heart and see where it would take me. Hopefully not to the graveyard, which was the likeliest location. For now, my soul guided me in front of Issac, who was now charging me with a Naginata on top of a moving tank. While reckless (like me), the Kitsune admittedly looked badass, but he wouldn’t be my final thought. I blocked the Moltagen-fused weapon with my swords, before kicking his foot, rendering him to the ground and off of the Barbarian tank. For now, I was in the lead, but I had a slight feeling that wouldn’t last. I will make sure there would be no other Alyte slaughtered by this fox coward. I followed the Kitsune, who was now rolling down a natural cliff, in front of the Barbarian Base. It was going to be risky, but I would do anything to exterminate this group of Terrons. I would have Issac’s head and let the highest bidder value their prized possession. It was going down now, and forever, and forever.

Why did Adam criticize me for my stupid actions but when it was a mission he always did the stupid shit? Honestly, I was using my javelins very wisely, I had only missed four of my fifty-six shots, before I rushed in, slaughtering the Barbarian and Terron backup. I could only imagine the shock on those fools’ faces when they saw a Moltagen-forged armored Ayte breaking through their defenses, though not abnormal, considering the desperate and ridiculous situation. Hazane was following behind a linear force of Spear Lords, which took out each tank one by one. It wasn’t a complete pushover, however, Terron Swordfighters started descending from jets behind us, and between the main Barbarian and Alyte conflict, hoping to obliterate both of our forces. Most of the black-clothed soldiers were TerroWrists, which were especially angry about the retaliation from the Barbarians. They brought Sykokins too, which would make some Barbarians piss their pants. At the front lines, I saw two Sykokins, which were more difficult to take out, but I challenged them anyways. It wasn’t in Axtreme Alyte fashion to back down from a fight. I could take on twenty Sykokins at once, hypothetically. I charged with a massive Scorpion Sword, piercing the nearest Terron in the heart. A massive dose of Moltagen expelled from his body, onto my armor, luckily. I could hardly believe someone could survive drinking this much Moltagen at once. The green substance landed on a nearby Barbarian, burning his thick skin. He went into a rage and decided to let all of his anger on a nearby Alyte. Shit. Well, you win some, you lose some. We had an entire legion of Alytes on our side at the moment, there was no reason to fret over some losses. I made sure to keep myself calm, and the rest of my friends. I released the body from my grip and slashed at an unfortunate Terron who made the mistake of engaging me when I was angry. At least his dismembered body was in only two pieces.

Alyte men and their classic ways of gory executions during battle never interested me. It was much less messy to annihilate an enemy with a simple punch to the chest. I also believed it was more badass as well. I liked that about Latoes, my former partner. Henry and Adam always came back from missions with stains on their armor and clothing, I didn’t like it. Suddenly, while I was running towards a wall to climb it, I slipped on a steep broken edge, when a hand caught me. It was Sprout, she was disguised with a purple and green Kitsune mask, but I could recognize those nimble fingers. “Chaotic as ever, I see,” said the Alyte, “You ought to know your hair color stands out.” “Thanks” I replied. Seeing someone like Sprout in a place like this was unusual. I didn’t complain though. I reached the top and spied on the battlefield for a little while. I would’ve looked for longer if only a rude Barbarian fired a tank missile at me, destroying his base, well already destroyed base. It almost reminded me of Latoes, he used atomic weapons, which never spilled any actual blood, leaving his perfect golden hair shining, while Adam’s hair was already dark and I could barely recognize Henry’s white hair. Damn, I missed my best friend, but for now, there was no reason for me to worry about it, I had other problems to worry about at the moment.

Oh, how I despised those meddling fools. Meridian Munkin would have his revenge on this damned planet. The Alytes will finally take the Moltassa Warriors seriously once the assault takes place. He devoted his life to the Terron Path. There was no possible way two-hundred MV1s could fail now. Machines forged in the likeness of a human mind, ready to follow any order given to them. Some of them unsheathed Katanas, some of them drew rifles, and all of them were ready for combat. “MAVERICKS, MAVERICKS, MAVERICKS, MAVERICKS.” Meridian was the first to start the chant that echoed through the entire mountainside before the assault happened. In a ten-by-twenty formation, they dashed down the cliff, as fast as they could, and into the repopulated Barbarian Base. Both of Meridian’s hands lit up an orange color. His metal body was next, it was illuminating, while the rest of the Mavericks glowed all sorts of different colors, today would be a day worth remembering. And all of Stereo would learn to know that. The massive army of Mavericks continued dashing like the robots they were, stopping at nothing, eliminating every Alyte, Barbarian, and Terron they spot. The bloodbath didn’t start with the Moltassians, but it would continue as long as they survived.

I was pretty upset with how this mission was going. First, it turned into a simple checkup, now it’s become a bloody chaos arena. From losing Execute to getting beaten by Felch, why couldn’t I catch at least one break? Well, that was the hard part about being a Champion, you could never take as much as a breather your entire life. Yet I would succeed, you know why? I am in the top ten percent who know what it’s like to fail and be dominated. I have a fire in my eyes and crows which blind the ever-eclipsing sun. The fatal but not final failures will injure me so severely, they would punish me by keeping me alive to process the pain. Where at last, I will look to the opposite eclipse where I put down my weapon and lay down my life. The Iteration of Champions applied to me more than usual, especially at this very moment. With all of the chaos going on, I needed to rid of my thoughts and let my skills eradicate all of my enemies. I flew to the highest point at the scene, the Barbarian Radiation Tower, where no one was located. The flat roof of the building could fit a dozen Champions, and I was going to be one of them. I looked down, the battle was faltering, more and more Alytes and Terrons were dying, and even the Sykokins looked like they had a hard time taking care of the Barbarian reinforcements, This was a prime time for one little Kitsune to join the battle, of course.

Here he was, the famous Cackle, the Crownomancer of a single world, and the slayer of multiple weaklings. What a fool he was to think he could lead a legion of Barbarians against Terrons and succeed. I would be eating Crow Soup soon enough, however. It would surely be a duel, between Barbarian and Terron, ancient enemies would clash, here, there would be no Alytes to ruin this special moment. And of course, there had to be an Alyte who ruined this special moment, there always was an Alyte who had to ruin everything. Why we didn’t band together and defeat the Alytes indefinitely before destroying each other, I didn’t know. Adam Aero, with two Scorpion Swords in his hands, jumped on the rooftop. Surprisingly, he didn’t dash and attempt to attack both of us at once, instead, he took a defensive position, laying low. This was going to be an interesting battle between a fox, a bird, and a dumbass. I couldn’t get cocky yet, so I took a balanced position, whereas the remaining opponent took an offensive position. An interesting strategy from both of my foolish opponents, actually, I almost started respecting those soldiers, if it hadn’t been for their snarky attitudes and victim mindsets. I had better things to do, such as, but not limited to, explaining why in the hell a pilot deliberately crashed his plane into the heart of the chaos, killing a few hundred soldiers and possibly himself as well.

I don’t even know anymore man, what did my brother want from me? Really. What in the hell did he want me to do when he sent an ominous message “Create a scene.” I did the first thing any young Kitsune would’ve done, crash their vehicle and annihilate a massive legion of enemies all at once. It was the least I could do for my brother since he’s raised me for most of my life. It’s not like I was in any real danger. I had an Orbital Barrier Shield on, preventing me from encountering harm or injury. I got out of the vehicle and saw three particularly insane guys duking it out on top of a Barbarian building, you don’t see that every day. I didn’t see much of anything every day. My brother forced me to stay indoors most of the time, playing Pool. Rushing out of my jet, I stopped when I saw who my brother was fighting. I knew my brother was strong, but damn, those were some tough opponents. Fighting a Machama graduate and the Crownomancer was quite a challenge for one of the first real battles on Stereo, just shows how powerful and mainstream the Terrons have become. And it was all thanks to my big brother, couldn’t imagine how difficult it must’ve been for him, he could pall at any moment. That only motivated me more, I wouldn’t fail him now, especially on our big day, the day that would change history forever. Today would be the day all Terrons, not just the TerroWrists will be known, everyone will feel the wrath and suffering of us all. But first, there were two pesky Alyte Finger Dancers I wanted to personally deal with. I despised the Finger Dancers, especially the Alyte ones. They would be the first to feel the wrath of Isosceles Kitsune.

How I ended in these situations didn’t matter, I had more exciting things to worry about. Such as how I, the great Adam Aero was going to defeat a literal messenger god, and the leader of the most notorious bounty hunter clan in the Solar System Stereo. I said the planet’s name again, didn’t I? Well, both of my Scorpion Swords always seemed to work, and coincidentally, one of them was accidentally stained with pure liquid Moltagen, I didn’t complain though. A little damage boost didn’t hurt anyone. Wait, that wasn’t the best way I could’ve worded that sentence, wasn’t it? You know what I meant, didn’t you? I swear to Stereo, the planet, and the universe I didn’t mean it to sound comedic, okay? Something you can trust me more on is parrying, was it narcissism if I indeed was one of the best? I was one of the greatest Parists at least on my planet, and Alytes were famous for their almost unbeatable defenses, which made me happy to be one of the best in their ranks. Believe me, it felt really good to be in that position, to have everyone in your life compliment you on your achievements. Do you know what else felt amazing? People continue to congratulate you on not only your skill but your actions as well, so that was what I did.

I was the first to strike, of course, Cackle and Issac were expecting it, so I didn’t expect to land the hit. Even Issac parried the slash better than I expected him to, we were approximately the same age, after all. The Crownomancer fired a weak crow at us. We, kid you not, said “Shut up Cackle” simultaneously. The Barbarian got upset at us and fired another dozen flying organisms, specifically at Issac, he seemed to hate him like he killed one of his friends or something. I backed off as the Terron and Barbarian focused on each other, giving me time to rest, but only a very minuscule amount of time. I got feathers and black and green Moltagen-fused blood off of both of my Scorpion Swords. Even though the three-way duel lasted for only a short period, the damages were already showing. Issac stabbed the Crownomancer through the chest, throwing his weak body at me, but I managed to throw it to the right, where he was originally before the duel began when I engaged the Ares Lord. Here we were in the same old situation again, except all of us were more worn out than before. Issac’s Naginata was still inside Cackle’s chest before he pulled it out and threw it over the side of the building, with the optimistic hope the object would pierce an Alyte or Terron. He didn’t find out if it did, however, as our eyes were diverted to a thin figure joining us in this building.

I’ve met some weird ass people over the years, but only shit. These guys were not all right, one of them had giant black wings on him, which wasn’t even the most confusing part about him, his red glow pierced me with slits for eyes. At least the other guy was normal enough, he was equipped with two Scorpion Swords and, oh god no. No, this guy was not someone I just met. His clothing was stained with Moltagen and Barbarian blood, he was a Machama graduate. One of the President’s Elites. Why was my brother so stupid? Why did he decide he wanted to fight a fucking Machama graduate. Well, you might as well give up now, I told myself, but something compelled me not to. I couldn’t let my brother down, I’ve been training my entire life for this very moment, of course, it would be challenging. I rushed towards the man from Machama. I didn’t have a strategy, but he wouldn’t expect this maneuver. My Naginata was metallic with a slick black paint job. The weapon bounced off the man’s Scorpion Sword, it fell out of his hand. He may’ve blocked my attack but he was one weapon down now. Good enough, I told myself. The man was surely one of the greatest Alytes in the generation. I half-expected Issac to follow up that attack with another, and sure enough, he did. He pierced the enemy with his sharp Naginata, but not the man from Machama.

Oh fuck no, that was what Issac must’ve been thinking as well. Goddamn it no, I thought I could last longer than this, but maybe this was how things were meant to play out. Most Alyte Finger Dancers, including me, believed in fate and prophets. There wasn’t a prophet, however, and I couldn’t predict this happening, what did I do wrong? No, I did nothing wrong, all my life, I wanted to protect Alyte, Alyte, even if it meant my death. Even if the one I was protecting could’ve survived the strike, I’ve completed my purpose. Even in one of my last moments, I still made the same mistake I always made, my incorrect definition of consistency. Organisms were not consistent. Sometimes, they would win a battle against a legion of enemies, but they would lose to the same legion the second time. Which was why people didn’t believe programmed beings and automation were truly alive. They would only do what someone else told them to do, over and over again, following the same set of rules, for each language. It was beautiful to see what living organisms could create though, always killing machines manned by each other and never useful objects. That’s how the world works, I guess. Maybe it was my fault too, being an Alyte Finger Dancer rather than being a technician or engineer. That didn’t matter now though, I was likely going to have a whole parade celebrating me, when I just want a grave marked with the words “HERE LIES ENVIE ‘SPROUT’ SUZANNE.”

I held back the emotions, they weren’t necessary, I had caused over a hundred Terrons and Barbarians never to feel emotion ever again, I didn’t deserve it. What mattered now was the gift of the present, I carried my unconscious friend to the back of the roof behind me, where the Crownomancer and Ares Lord couldn’t find me. Weird how feelings, which had nothing to do with strength, started to feel like they were wearing down my muscles. We were trained to never let our emotions run wild, and Gatz was right, he was the best teacher I’ve ever had. I wouldn’t let his death or teachings be in vain, it wasn’t fair, how could have the Terrons planned this? They exactly knew our behaviors and instincts, so I had to divert from my regular activities. As the young Kitsune aimed his small Naginata at me, I used the Crownomancer as a body shield, the black-clothed man screamed, his body covered with Moltagen, the blood-curling screams stopping when the Moltagen reached his mouth, and eventually, his life. I think it was safe to say the Crownomancer delivered his last message. There were still two pesky little foxes I had to deal with, however. The Ares Lord stared at me, surprisingly, his Naginata was in a defensive position. Unusual for the predatory and violent Terrons, but I wasn’t complaining at the fact they gave me at least a small moment to breathe, I needed it. I wanted to punch and kick and slaughter them all but I restrained myself, I would get the opportunity soon enough. They would see the real power of a Rose.

How many? I asked myself. How many more people could I brush off? I don’t know why. I hate it here, I hate this planet, I hate this universe. I want to go home. We are home. WHO ARE WE? I am you. The great Alyte soldier Adam Aero vs the true Aero who reigned Stereo and his people. Do you know why I could do it? I know what it’s like to fail. Every single mission, every wasted drop of moisture including sweat and blood was to guide me into superiority. I was already a powerful soldier, but I could be so much more. Everything had happened for a reason. The path to success hid behind a variety of pain. So much anger. So much sadness. Do you know what happens when a person feels emotions? They will retaliate. A programmed, built entity will only follow its creator’s order, that’s how you tell the difference between a real Champion and a false entity. Adam Aero would no longer be an Alyte soldier nor an Aero heir. Adam Aero would be Adam Aero. He would be whatever he wanted because he worked for it, and he knew that’s what his allies, fallen or still standing, would’ve wanted. He would be the man from Merris. No, he would be known as The Man from Stereo. He wanted to be Justice. He- I stood up, clearly injured, but caring as much as a robot would. I looked to my right, where the wings of a once healthy messenger lay, his red, glowing eyes going offline. An eye for an eye, I said automatically, before Aaron Asteroid locked eyes on his first victim.

Isosceles Kitsune was unaware of Adam’s awakening, as he was too busy helping his brother fight off a pink-haired woman and a furious white-haired knight. The knight had rushed in unexpectedly and injured the Ares Lord, letting go of his prized Naginata. Before the young foxling could rush to his brother to help him, he felt an especially agonizing piercing blow, like a sword through the back of his neck. He struggled to breathe correctly. He felt like vomiting but the only thing which expelled from his throat was the familiar red substance that has already been shed during the Battle of Barbarian Base Yunuko. Everyone felt it now, they were no longer living on February 20th, 14204, they were among the first people to experience the first moments of A.B.B.B.Y. and they could not even murmur a single word after the most difficult and agonizing battle of their lives. Amidst this, Issac retrieved his Naginata before it fell over the side of the building, but wished he hadn’t, just to spare him from seeing the most horrifying sight he’s seen in ages for only a few moments. His remaining blood brother's body was being expelled from the Scorpion Sword held by Adam Aero, the Alyte who followed him and the now deceased Cackle here. A second victim Adam thought. Mental pain isn’t real pain, he convinced himself, while still trying to eliminate the agony. Why couldn’t he do anything good in his goddamn life? He was where he still was when he was seven when he was twelve when he was turning into something that wasn’t himself.

“He who remained still, not from his own doing, but from the hands of time, or with the damage now sustained, his remaining finger on each of his one hand.” - Astroid

Chapter 18: Song

“It’s fine to let loose, for when you lose. When he comes from the left, you stay in the middle, in the same old shit we’re always in.” Henry continued to carry his friend’s body as they were leaving the battlefield, his tongue manipulated to sing the lyrics of their favorite song, “Miles.” That was the distance they’ve walked so far. The inhabitable planet showed signs of life when the bushes started to rumble in the night. Henry never felt so miserable in his entire life, and it was not necessarily due to the fact he lost one of his best friends last night, he was used to that, but for the first time, he felt like he lost himself.

General Hand ordered his knights to bow to him as the giant clock behind him struck twelve. The golden room glimmered with dark objects. There was much to do, like addressing the elephant in the room. A young lad was chained up, all for Hand to see. It had taken twelve Horns, Stereo’s defenders to capture a boy, strange indeed. The general hoped there wasn’t more of his kind around here, they could deal a serious amount of damage. The boy looked to be around twelve years old, also interesting. He was armed with nothing but a short blaster, meaning he was almost able to defeat a dozen knights with nothing but his bare hands. A dissection would benefit Hand, seeing how the mind of an outsider worked. A lingering thought still stuck in the general’s mind. Of all of the people to find us out, it had to be such an odd little creature. The man’s metallic face and skull-shaped head caught Gatrous’s attention whilst he was being brought into the private chambers. He looked around at his surroundings, he had never been in a place like this before. It was intriguing indeed. The lighting was unusual as well, it seemed to originate from the planet’s natural resources. Golden-colored machines crafted from sticks and stones. Clocks forged with the familiar blue ore found commonly on the planet. The residents of this planet seemed to have it all. Gatrous wasn’t planning on being allies with this group, however. They not only abducted him, they took out his entire battalion, and they were likely to execute him too. And be very disappointed when the long, golden rifle they were going to use wasn’t going to even crack his head. So he decided to be nice. Save them from disappointment by breaking out of here now, right this instant.

Gatrous entered the general’s room in his chained state, trying to conceal his large grin. This prison break would be out of this universe. The thought continued to circle his brilliant mind. He devised a foolproof plan and return to the Barbarian Base, or what was left of it, and scavenged for materials and supplies he could use. That was for later, however. What he needed to think about was the main objective. Break out of this time scientist’s wet dream. He looked upward, where General Hand was sitting on a golden throne, his gray skull head opening his mouth. “Interesting little creature, are you not?” He continued to move his useless metal tongue. “How in the hell were you able to defeat almost a dozen of my men, boy?” The question thoroughly offended the Barbarian heir, he was not just some boy. Well, he was a young lad, but he was much more than that. He would show those bastards how things worked around in his country, with only a single, small white pearl. He had eaten a dimension pill today, hopefully, these Inverse Orbs made by Orbital wouldn’t fail him. He trusted Orbital, there wasn’t a single Orbital product or mechanism which failed him. Besides, these pills were quite safe, they only inverse everyone around you into a different dimension when smashed to the ground. Gatrous hoped these items weren’t defective.

General Hand’s hand conducted less harm than Gatrous expected, since, well he was a metal man, after all. He spat at the general, clueless at how much damage that would cause. The main act was yet to begin. Gatrous had to be patient, but every moment of inaction was physically harming him. He could feel it in his veins, he felt like exploding at the moment. The general’s pure blue eyes pierced the heir with a furious look, he took two long objects from his pockets of a very fancy black suit. The Barbarian lived on Bartos Plane long enough for him to know those were used for harming fellow organisms. He didn’t panic, he’s been in these types of situations enough times to know what to do. That wasn’t a good thing, was it? What was better was the fact he knew exactly what to do in these types of situations. Gatrous introduced himself to the general with the biggest words he knew. “If I may introduce myself, general, I am Gatrous of Bartos Plane, sir.” He felt like he could’ve done better but he didn’t say anything else. He simply waited for the time-obsessed lunatic to respond, hopefully kindly. He lied to himself the general would be nice to an outsider. He received another slap from another metallic hand, the palm of Hand’s right-hand man. He was wearing a short bandana, enough to just barely cover his nose and mouth. He looked as lovely as ever. In the chained state, he was able to see an opening and just barely managed to snap his thumbs and the pearls landed in his mouth. He hoped he didn’t have to talk anymore. The shape of his mouth would likely cause suspicion, so he waited until the general said something else. “It is in the best interest of our people if we-” The general wasn’t able to complete his sentence as three small milky-blue pearls were smashed to the ground.

Silence. Gatrous was in the same room, where the clock was striking, everyone fifty feet around him were transported into a different dimension. He no longer had to worry about them, but there was something else to worry about. Food. He hadn’t eaten in twenty-one hours. He was starving. Good thing the Barbarian Base was only ten miles away. The real struggle was how was the Barbarian heir going to get out of there. The large double doors of General Hand’s room were the first place Gatrous looked. He knocked on the golden door and noticed it was made of wood. A few blasts with his Armadillo completed the job quickly enough. Once he made his exit, he looked one last time at the giant golden clock in the middle, striking one. He left the golden location only to see the middle of the woods on flat ground. He tried to confirm his location by looking back at the place he came from but saw nothing but an endless wave of trees. The place was gone. He was going to ponder more about the abnormal situation, but he had a bigger problem to think about. A familiar figure was standing, only a silhouette remaining of the man Gatrous used to know. He got closer to him, his Armadillo in hand, and the figure moved forward, revealing the man known as Barbarian Flame Manager Felch.

“Many of the kids’ questions were ‘What was Aero like?’ ‘Where was he born?’ ‘How did he arrive at Stereo?’ but none of them questioned how his enemies were able to conquer the planet first.” - Aryn’s report, Machastroid Academy (Year 17205)

Chapter 19: S is for Sal

“You may call me Sal.” Adam didn’t break eye contact with the unfamiliar man of the unfamiliar species. He was pretending to limp in his Milock Leg. The long metallic part was very useful in this situation. The man from Merris didn’t expect to be in this situation hours ago, life was strange sometimes, wasn’t it? Henry sheathed his blade, while the opposing creature stood perfectly still. He had a clock for a face, which didn’t seem possible, until now. His golden head stood out in the darkness. He took a single step forward when fourteen other organisms just like him appeared out of the bushes. Adam didn’t think a clock would ever speak but the main leader in a classy suit yelled “Fucking fools, you weren’t supposed to do that, look! You scared off our prey- I mean visitors.” His clock was going in circles before he continued “Fuck! Fuck me! Well, you don’t seem like the strong type, off with-” Before the man was able to continue his sentence in his deep voice, Henry did what he did best, throw a javelin at him. The clock-faced wasn’t impressed, neither were his buddies because was happy with this. No one was happy in the last couple of days it seemed like, including whatever the fuck these guys were. Adam and Henry didn’t want to lose precious brain cells thinking about these guys, they had much, much bigger problems to deal with at the moment. Adam drew both of his Scorpion Swords and maintained a defensive position, as always. He liked to play it safe most of the time. It reminded him of sparing with Henry and Sprout, the nostalgia stung a little more now.

The clock-faced men had longer weapons, golden pikes. Their body language suggested they weren’t in a great mood, meaning they would likely kill anyone who got in their way. The duo from Merris knew all about the savage, almost Barbarian nature of different species, however. It seemed like every day was just another war waiting to happen. But I must not lose yet. Adam thought in the back of his mind. The front of his mind was focused on an enemy, his weapon too. The Scorpion Sword in his left hand had now been thrust into the front of a clock-shaped thug. The fancy-dressed man now fading in golden sparks, almost burning Adam’s hand, while Henry moved forward, and the leader took a single step backward, clearly underestimating how powerful an outsider could be, even on foreign territory. That step didn’t back down his confidence or skill, however, as he launched a fury of attacks that Henry blocked, making him the furious one now. The armored man’s blade pushed back the Stereo native on his rear. The clock-faced man took another offensive position so as to not embarrass himself further in front of his entire crew. It was clear he wasn’t going anywhere until at least someone one, the Alytes or the Time Warriors, accompanied by the one and only Felch.

“God. Damn. It.” Not only did I get kidnapped by some time-obsessed natives, but I also had to deal with the Alytes as well. Oh, and add Felch there to make my life hell. There weren’t any breaks in the life of a soldier, weren’t there? This was why I was determined to be the best Barbarian ruler since Shadiv the IV in 8637 through 8721. I know what it’s like to fail, which was why I know what to do in this exact situation. Deal with my own business, the Alytes or “Time Warriors” I heard one of them say were too busy trying to kill each other to care about me, the only one I should worry about was Felch. I’d beaten him before, well, with the help of a Crownomancer, but I could manage (no pun attended). I drew my Armadillo and blasted Felch as he was positioned on a tree, knocking him off. He glared at me with some bloodthirsty eyes. Which gave one of the Alytes a chance to pierce him with a javelin, and he took the opportunity. Hopefully, Felch would stay dead for a little while, at the very least. I glanced at the Time Warriors, I was more afraid of them than the Alytes at the moment. I was sure the Alytes were more afraid of the Time Warriors than me too. Maybe they feared the clock-faced freaks even more than the Terrons, even more than the infamous (even to Barbarians) TerroWrists. I was sure the Ares Lord no longer had a clan to rule, so I didn’t worry much about him. Noticing Felch waking up and running in the opposite direction of the forest, I drew my Armadillo and aimed it precisely at the traitor, before a Time Warrior blasted it out of my hand, with his fucking face. Was there something this species couldn’t do? I didn’t even want to begin to answer that question. I retracted my hand and looked at it closely, hoping it wasn’t completely burned off. To my surprise, through the pain of it all, my hand was shaking, but it survived the blast. The Time Warrior was sure to finish me off, but the same Alyte threw a spear at him, piercing him in the throat before looking at the remaining eight warriors. This was going to be interesting for sure. So interesting, I ran away as fast as I could, I would let the Time Warriors and Alytes kill each other, maybe cause the distraction so the Terrons could get themselves killed as well, it was worth a shot at least.

So many of them. Thought the Time Warrior nicknamed Carkanon. Stereo has never had this many foreign intruders before. So why now? The thoughts were truly getting to him, making him lose focus on the current mission at hand. General Hand was to be here soon. At least in another dimension. Cark raised his arm, with a miniature-sized canon on the back of his hand, ready to fire at any enemy who decided to take one wrong step. Comrade Aizen was to my right, brandishing his Black Katana, the one he crafted yesterday. I had only just realized how much I was homesick, wishing this mission would end sooner rather than later. The blacksmith never said anything, at all. He was always looking for ways to upgrade and craft new weapons and armor, putting his mind to work at any given moment. I saw it in his deep black eyes and his even darker hair looked to be working perfectly as camouflage as he hid inside of a bush, ready to strike and engage the two Alyte intruders. Maybe then, we would get an explanation of the absolutely massive explosion which happened on one of our nation’s largest mountains. We were desperate for answers after hearing about the event, hopefully, Hand could coerce the Barbarian youth into giving him some vital information. I needn’t worry about that, yet, however. These Alytes were giving us a run for our money, or our time. I don’t even know anymore man. I raised my blade in an offensive position and engaged in battle with the black-haired man while Aizen dueled with his white-haired companion.

It was a Katana versus Scorpion Sword battle, in terms of range, I was winning. I unleashed a flurry of attacks which were all blocked or parried by the injured man. I couldn’t believe I was losing to a man who needed a metallic leg to move. He attempted a swift kick I countered with my own low kick, knocking him to the ground. Before I could get to him, his armored companion kicked me in the legs before delivering a swift punch to Aizen’s abdomen. Cark aimed for the man, sending a small cannonball to the man, causing a significant amount of damage. He was officially knocked out, and Aizen, Cark, and I were ready to engage the remaining Alyte. He didn’t lose even a single shred of focus, however. He kept his defensive position. As we moved forward, he moved backward, and slowly as well. This was going to be an interesting battle, to say the least. After a moment of absolute silence, I made an awful decision, I rushed the foreign Alyte. To say the least, he was much more than a foolish tourist. The next thing I knew, I received a massive, bloody slash from the Alyte. The scariest part was the fact that Time Warriors didn’t bleed. They turned to dust, and I lay on the ground, limp, losing my own consciousness.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t care about Freo. He was a bright friend, but there was no reason to dwell on something that didn’t happen, I needed to focus on what was happening right now. I raised my metallic hammer, which was also my hand. I was unlike most of my group, I had dark hair, camouflage with black clothing. Cark was firing a large cannonball when it felt like time slowed down. I rushed to the projectile and swung it at the Alyte. As he tried to defend himself instead of simply dodging, one of his Scorpion Swords broke, pushing him to the ground below. The intruder seemed to be almost invincible. How he always got up on his feet every time, I had no idea, and I was knowledgable about a massive amount of things if it was related to creating that is. He was visibly injured, however. I wanted to engage him, try to kill him, but even I knew how dangerous an Alyte could be when they were angry. I was waiting for General Hand to come. Why was he taking so damn long? It was an agonizing experience. There was no reason why he and his men shouldn’t be here by now. I got impatient for the first time in my life and felt a heavy stab from the front. In a matter of seconds, I was lying on the ground. I hadn’t remembered how I got there. The man from Merris couldn’t have attacked me that quickly. I thought to myself. He was also on the ground. I must’ve got him and fallen unconscious. The thought had its flaws, however. Why didn’t my remaining comrades carry me to the infirmary? I was on the same battlefield, the same forest. I saw him, the white-haired man alive, somehow. To my right were all six remaining of my coworkers, likely dead. The man I had engaged didn’t seem to be anywhere close until I looked to my right. He was walking away, limply, with his robotic leg. He looked back and fell on his knees, applying a Milock Kit. The device healed his wounds, I knew the technology from spying on the Alytes. How interesting. I thought deeply about the subject. After he applied the device to his deep wounds, he turned around and walked towards the scene of the massacre, I assume to rescue his friend, maybe finish me off as well, maybe both at the same time. I saw him write down something on the floor, I slowly got up to take a look at what is said. There, engraved in the sand and dirt, read S is for Sal.

“We were called the Kitsunes due to our fast nature, he could outrun any of our enemy’s attacks, and we could outrun the Barbarians, the Alytes, the Terrons. What we couldn’t outrun, however, was the swift hammer of justice, making us the first criminals of Stereo.” - Issac Kitsune

Chapter 20: Vision

A star zoomed out of the sky, or was it a rocket? I couldn’t tell anymore, as I consumed an orange from a particular tree I found on this planet. It was news to me a foreign planet could host some familiar sweet balls, in the midst of one of the Kitsune’s darkest days. The climate of this planet seemed to reflect that. Rainy on some days, dark on most. After I consumed my orange, I heard the most beautiful piece of music I’d heard, the song “Once” being played on Isoceles’s violin, his red eyes piercing mine, his true age betraying his physical appearance, here he was. He was an adult man by now, not the slain teenager on this damned planet. As I held on to the hallucination, I held onto my happiness as well, if it was only but for a single moment in time before I would likely be savagely attacked by reality, the one who challenged me all my life. When that moment came, I smiled and returned back to my office, near the stolen Gyrocrafter. There, I entered the cabin and took a cup of freshly brewed coffee, prepared by the one and only Kitsune chef, Saiz. He smiled as I took a sip, before bowing and leaving the kitchen. Outside, the sky was dark, the stars, few and far between. There was something else I could enjoy, however, a massive pile of medals and materials spilled from the glory of war. Nothing much, I continued to stare at the stockpile. All five hundred bodies of the Alytes and four hundred Barbarians, the bodies continued to burn under the uninviting sky of the foreign planet. I was beginning to feel a little chilly, after all.